The worst disease
by viktriap
Summary: John meets another person from his past during a case in New York. A lot of childhood memories and a lot of action
1. Default Chapter

Author's note: I know that probably I shouldn't start another story... because one of them I will surely neglect but this one was in my head for ages. And tonight it felt like coming out so here it is! I hope you like it... this is the sequel to my other stories and this chapter you will see the events of Past perfect in John's POV. This would have been the last chapter of Past perfect but somehow I couldn finish it that way, but here it fits .. or so I think.

So, enjoy the chapter and please rewiev!

I hope there aren't too many mistakes, but I'm finishing this almost at midnight so don't except perfect grammar and things like that...

**Chapter one**

Sam walked out of her office and went to John's desk. He's been working again just since two weeks ago. However he still wore a brace on his knee, he was full of energy and though the doctor limited his working hours, he spent at least ten hours a day in the office but usually more.

"Could you please check these confessions out for me? I need some background research of the witnesses.."

"Consider it done." He said taking the file.

"It's not that urgent, this is an age-old case, you know. Don't get yourself overworked."

"Me?" he asked surprised. "I'm glad that I can be here again!"

"I've never heard anybody talk so enthusiastically about this hell-hole" said Grace who just stopped behind Sam. "I just finished the analysis of Torrente's blood and decided that I hated this job…"

"Did you find anything?" asked Sam.

"No. If I did, I wouldn't hate it so much."

"What's this gathering?" asked Bailey, coming out of his office.

"We're just starting the VCTF-union to fight for better working conditions." Said Grace with faked seriousness.

"Ah, so you are conspiring! But stop it because we have a new case" Grace growled. "I'd like to meet you in the command centre in" he looked at his watch "let's say: two minutes!"

All three of them frowned at the same time and then started to laugh.

"What is it?" asked Bailey looking back at them.

"You are so cute when you are bossy!" said Sam.

"I would have say something else, but I think this was much nicer" added Grace.

"Okay, I see I'm your target today, so I better prepare myself" sighed Bailey and turned to go to the command centre where his subordinates followed him immediately.

"So, the new case isn't a new case, actually. We helped with it a few months ago, but unfortunately there was no result. Now though we might have a chance. You sure remember the so-called Mob-killer, don't you?"

When they all nodded, Bailey continued.

"There was another attack in New York. However this time we have a survivor. More over this survivor is an undercover agent who works for the Organized Crime Department in the NY Office. An Agent" he looked at the file in his hand "Brody."

At this there was a loud crash as John jumped up and pushed his chair backwards. Every head turned at him and Sam saw that he was pale as ashes and she recognized something in his face she had never seen before: fear.

"B…Brody?" he stuttered.

"Yes, do you know him?" asked Bailey quite worriedly, obviously he was also surprised by John's frantic reaction.

"Yes, I think so… but it's her…"

"I can't tell for sure, here's no surname…" said their boss trying to sound calming.

"It must be her, she _works_ for the OCD… How is she? What happened?"

"I don't know many details… but if it's really her, then one thing is sure: she's alive. So you might as well calm down a little…"

"Sorry… I just… she is…" then he sat down again. "Never mind…"

The rest of the meeting was spent with the usual things: repeating what they knew of the previous murders (there were five of them, the victims were always in deep connection with different gangs or organized crime groups and they were killed by countless punctured-wounds). Then Bailey summed up the profile they came up with those months ago, and announced that they would leave by plane in an hour.

John was watching the top of the table the whole time and even after they finished he seemed distant and worried.

62 minutes later they were on board and flying to New York. Sam was sitting with Bailey as usual but she throw concerned glances at John constantly.

"Why don't you go and talk to him?" Bailey asked.

"Since when can you read my mind?"

"Since I sleep with you every night…"

"I think you are right." She stood up and walked over to John, who was looking out the window. "Can I sit down?"

"Of course" his cheerfulness from earlier was nowhere to seen, and so was his fear, Sam felt again as if he were looking at a mask.

"So, where do you know this agent Brody?"

"I don't want to talk now, Sam…" he mumbled.

"Okay, I understand… but I'm sure she's all right…"

John didn't answer just turned back to the window.

-

John was watching the blue sky out there but he didn't really see it. He was glad that Sam gave up so easily, she usually wasn't so convincible. But now he didn't really feel like talking. It was strange: first Miss Warren, and now Angie Brody.

However this was different because with Angie he didn't lose contact. They still talked occasionally, even if not as often as he would want. But she had a difficult job… Just like him. She still called him after his 'accident' with Jack and said how sorry she was that she couldn't come visit him.

He watched the clouds and remembered. He remembered the year when he was fifteen, and when everything started to go downhill…

_It was a hard year. His mother has just died, he was hating his father more than ever before. And didn't help either that there was a complex investigation against the Conelly-clan. This meant that Patrick O'Doyle was always irritated and this meant a lot more beating for his son. And other things that he had to do for his father… For example delivering those packages… _

_Fifteen-year-old John O'Doyle was running. Again. He knew that he couldn't get to the school in time as he was already late. He woke up at 5 a.m. but he had to deliver a package for his father to the outskirts and he lost his way. Principal Harding won't like it, which meant detention. And his father didn't like if he got detention. But of course he liked it even less if he didn't deliver his packages properly! So there was really no choice for John._

_He took a sharp turn and ran even faster. His backpack was jumping up and down to the rhythm of his steps. At last he arrived at the school and rushed inside. Unfortunately the first man he ran into – and actually it happened literally! – was Principal Harding._

"_I'm sorry sir…"_

"_I see you are late again, Mr. O'Doyle. Go to your classroom and I'd like to see you after lessons in my office!"_

"_Yes, sir." He started off again._

"_And don't run on the corridor!" the principal shouted after him._

_He burst into the classroom out of breath and froze in mid-step when he glimpsed the unknown teacher standing on the cathedra. _

"_I'm sorry for being late Miss…"_

"_Miss Warren. And you?"_

"_John O'Doyle, Miss."_

"_I hope being late isn't a habit of yours. Sit down."_

"_No Miss, it isn't."_

_He went to his seat and_ _glimpsed at Angie who was watching him with a concerned look. He quickly shook his head telling that it was nothing wrong._

_When they were out of class about forty minutes later, the girl joined him immediately._

"_What happened?" she asked._

"_Another package for my father… and unfortunately I ran into Harding."_

"_Detention?"_

"_I have to show up in his office after lessons."_

"_I'm also in detention until the end of the week."_

"_Why am I not surprised?" then he added." Maybe because you're always in detention…" _

_Angie frowned but didn't contradict in any other way. To tell the truth she couldn't as what John told was absolutely correct. They were best friends since John could remember and the first word that came to his mind when talking about Angie was: wild. She was nothing like the other girls. Maybe it was because she was brought up by his father alone, but she always behaved like a boy… or sometimes even worse. She was in the box-team, where she was the only girl and because of this she usually matched with boys and to the boys great annoyance with not little success. _

"_By the way" changed she the subject suddenly. "Dad asks if you could come over on Saturday and help out a little bit."_

"_Of course I could. But I have to ask my father first." _

_Angie's father Mr. Brody had a pub and John often helped out there. His father almost always let him go, especially as the pub belonged to him in papers. Mr. Brody was a nice man and a good father – this was one thing John envied Angie for. However he had a big problem – he was a passionate gambler. He asked for loans many times - and not the legal way of course. And then three years ago he lost his pub that belonged to the family for almost a century. Now the "Red Rose" was a hangout for the members of the Conelly-clan and there went on a lot of black business in the back-rooms._

_Angie spent her childhood in the pub as her mother died when her daughter was one year old and the special upbringing had consequences. And those consequences were not something the teachers were to fond of._

"_Maybe we might end up together in the chemistry lab! I have to clean there every afternoon…" she mused._

"_I don't think Harding would commit this mistake again."_

_She shrugged._

"_What do you think about Miss Warren?" Angie always was jumping between subjects which could confuse someone else, but John was used to it._

"_She seemed nice."_

_That time he hadn't known yet that her kindness would cause him a lot of trouble. Hardly a few weeks later, they had that uncomfortable incident in the library and he had to go to the social worker. Not as if this hadn't happened before of course. There were occasionally new teachers who thought they could change the world but in the last year John was careful enough but not this time. _

_After the visit at the social service he listened absentmindedly at the conversation Miss Warren had with his father. It was a Friday afternoon. Next day he could go over the Red Rose to help out again… if he will be in the condition for it. He liked to be at the Brody house. After work he usually slept there and he felt as if he were living in a real family. Sometimes he imagined what it would be like if he had a father like Mr. Brody. But he didn't as he was reminded when his father waved him in and he obeyed of course. When the door was closed he didn't even look up. He didn't have to to know what was coming._

"_What is this about?" Patrick O'Doyle asked quietly. He never shouted, probably he wasn't even angry but the quieter he was the more dangerous the situation became. _

"_I helped Miss Warren in the library, and she accidentally poured me over with hot coffee. I forgot…"_

_The blow came without warning but not unexpectedly. John didn't even finch however he heard something – probably a rib – crack loudly. _

"_What did you forget?" his father asked._

"_I took off my jumper and she…"_

_The next blow came into his face, he swayed a little bit and his eyesight went blurry. _

"_And she?"_

"_She saw some of the bruises." He felt blood in his mouth but gulped it back. _

"_And what did you tell her?"_

"_That I injured during training…"_

"_I guess you weren't very convincing."_

_His father's beatings were always systematic. He rarely acted out of rage and John guessed that this was his luck. The few times when John met with a really furious self of Patrick O'Doyle, he always ended up in hospital. _

"_Do you agree when I say that you need to be reminded of proper behavior?" _

"_Yes, sir." _

_How he hated this. _Like a well-trained dog_, he thought to himself. _

_Reminding took no more than five minutes, but it cost John a black eye, a cracked lip, another bruised rib and a sprained wrist._

"_Go to the bathroom and wash your face. And ask Mrs. Cruz to sling your arm. We have dinner at six." _

_He did as he was told. Mrs. Cruz was their housemaid, who was a nice middle-aged woman and she often treated John's injuries. She never talked about it though, firstly because she knew Patrick O'Doyle and secondly because she didn't have a green card and neither had her family. _

_After dinner his father started a new conservation about the situation at hand, this one though took place in the study and in a less violent way._

"_What did you tell that social worker?"_

"_Nothing." This time he looked in his father's eyes. This was different, he got his punishment and it was over for today. _

"_I see. Just to make it clear: there won't be a hearing, I hope you understand this."_

"_Yes, I do."_

"_All right then. You can go to your room now."_

_He turned and then stopped in the door._

"_Father?"_

"_Yes?" he has already turned back to some papers, but now he looked at his son again. _

"_You won't hurt Miss Warren, will you?"_

"_I haven't decided yet." His father might have been a bastard but he never lied to his son. _

_Not many days later he knew that his father decided the bad way. He 'accidentally' overheard a conversation with one of his men and heard as he gave out the order to him to attack Miss Warren two days later. _

_He told about it to Angie. The girl looked at him with worried eyes so he guessed she must have register some of his thoughts._

"_You don't want to do something stupid, do you?" she asked. She might be a tough girl but even she didn't cross certain borders._

"_I don't know… maybe I should tell her…"_

"_Do you think, she would believe? People usually underestimate your father…"_

"_Since when are you so clever?"_

_She shrugged. _

"_You don't have to be odious!"_

"_What a polished style…" he mumbled under his nose._

"_I go to advanced literature, you know." Angie said with a faked pride that made John smile. Then the girl went grim again._

"_But seriously John, please don't make him beat the shit out of you…"_

"_Where's your polished style suddenly?"_

_She rolled her eyes at him. _

"_Sorry! I'm just tired of this…" he said and suddenly there was nothing sarcastic or happy in his voice._

_Angie stopped and to John's surprise she caressed his face. To his even bigger surprise he saw tears in her eyes. But Angie never cried…_

"_Just tell me if you need some help…"_

_And he needed. He decided to save Miss Warren and found a way to do it. So he asked Angie to come over and help him open the room where his father kept his weapons. Angie spent a lot of time with different kinds of gangsters in the pub and she learned fast and well. By the time she was twelve she could open almost every door and lock. Now however she wasn't fond of the idea… Actually they argued for hours before John could convince her and even then she was constantly growling. But she did it anyway… and John could appreciate it, because it was another sign of her friendship._

_Then of course he paid for it but it was worth it, or so he thought after he regained back consciousness._

_When he arrived at home, shaken and tired he found that big ape there in his father study. He knew it would come but as people say, hope dies last. His father indicated him inside as soon as he glimpsed his son._

"_I can't believe you dared to do this!" His father said in a strange voice when they were alone in the study again. _

_John didn't answer. Actually at the moment He couldn't believe it either he didn't understand how he dared to confront his father so openly. Not only had he stopped him in revenging Miss Warren, he also stole one of his weapons and this was maybe an even bigger crime. _

"_Do you have anything to say?"_

"_I'm sorry for breaking into your room." He said and this time he didn't look away, he stood his father's glare._

"_You know, son, in a way I'm proud of you. It must have taken a lot of courage to do what you have done. But this courage was absolutely misplaced and I have to make you understand this."_

_The beating that came after that wasn't the biggest of his life but was close enough. He ended up unconscious, with a broken nose and a broken hand. For the next two weeks he needed Angie to write his homework for him. Which she did without a word. She didn't even tell she had told so… And John felt that in a way she was really proud of him… _

"John!" He was waken of his reverie by Sam's voice.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Nothing. We are almost there…"

"Oh, right… Sorry if I snapped at you…" he added.

"Never mind" she smiled. "I hope your friend is really okay."

"Yes, I hope so too!" he said quietly.

-


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: I passed all my exams and however I still have my job I have a lot more time to write for a while, this means uploads will be more frequent if everything goes all right.

Here's the second chapter, so read and enjoy! And as always, please rewiev! Thank you for it in advance!

Chapter two

The hospital-corridor was like any other hospital-corridors in the country. Or so Sam saw it. He spent too much time in hospitals, it was clear. They were walking slowly, looking for the proper room-number.

Suddenly an elderly man stormed out of one of the rooms next to them. He slammed the door and cursed then he looked up and glimpsed the three agents. He walked to them distinctly. _Is it so obvious that we're from FBI? _Sam wondered.

"VCTF, right?" the man asked and Bailey nodded. "I'm assistant director Leary" he said. "Leader of the organized crime department."

"Bailey Malone" they shook hands. "Agent Waters and Agent Grant."

Sam nodded but John was watching the door that the assistant director had slammed before.

"I'm glad you are here. This case is running out of the hands of the locals… and to tell the truth mine too."

"How is Agent Brody?" asked Sam. "Can we talk to her?"

"She's _too _well and she's insufferable as always. But this time I have to agree with her… at least in some things!"

"Why, what happened?" asked Bailey. John was glaring at him as if he wanted to tell him not to ask more questions.

"The pen-pushers… somehow they found out that the victim was an agent. It's out now, and it ruined Brody's cover. I suspect she's already on Drakov's death-list… I decided to put guards on the corridor, but she almost bit down my head." He shook his head. "But yes, of course you can talk to her. Just beware because she might be dangerous right now…" he added with a dry smile.

John was already on his way to the door and the others were right on his heels. When he opened the door however he had to dodge as some hard thing – as Sam later realized a book, moreover the Bible itself that was there in every room! – was thrown at him.

"I see your temper didn't change" he said, and the young woman's face split into a huge smile.

"John! They told somebody would come from VCTF but I didn't hope it would be you!"

"Who else could talk some sense into your thick head?"

But he smiled and walked closer to the bed. Sam saw surprised bending him down and put a kiss on the woman's cheek. John wasn't the kind to show much affection and he was always uncomfortable in such situations but now it didn't seem so.

"How are you?" he asked then.

"Fine, it's nothing. Only Leary makes a big deal of it. That's why I got angry with him…"

"So you throw things at your boss?"

"Only when he behaves like a jerk."

"By the way, this is _my_ boss: Bailey Malone, and our profiler Samantha Waters."

"Hi." Agent Brody greeted them, and added. "John said a lot about you. Take a seat, because I guess you would like to hear my story."

"Yes, if you are not too tired." Bailey said, however it was plain that she was everything but tired.

"So, actually I don't know how much I can help" she started when they were seated: John next to the bed the others a little bit further away. "I don't know where to begin… How much do you know about my job?"

"Nothing." Answered Sam. "Or not very much."

"All right, then. So I worked on the Drakov-case. Have you ever heard of Vlad Drakov?" John nodded, the others shook their heads. "Well, he is the head of the Russian Mob here in town and he's on the job taking over the whole country. My task was to join his gang and get as much information as possible, it took a lot of effort and time to gain his trust but I succeeded. I got into the higher ranks. So as I said he tried to expand and he tried to form some coalition. That's why we were in that warehouse the night before. We should have met some Triad-members there… We were waiting outside but they were late and Jerry, my partner there - he became impatient and went inside. Then I heard some strange noises and went after him. He was bleeding on the floor and the next moment somebody smashed me from behind. I don't really know, then… the next I remember I was pushed to the wall and he stabbed me in the shoulder."

"How did you escape?"

"I realized that he must be that famous Mob-killer, as the papers call him and I improvised. I told him that I'm not a gangster, but an undercover agent. It was funny because he looked almost stunned… I didn't see his face as he wore a mask but still I had the feeling that he was wavering. And then he left."

"So simply?" asked Bailey.

"Yes. I think he believed me."

"Yes, it must be so. This strengthens our profile" said Sam. "He is after the bad guys, so to say. He didn't want to kill an 'innocent'."

"Did you hear this, John? She told I was an innocent!" and she laughed out.

"It's just because she doesn't know you!" John said.

It was obvious that this game has gone on between them for ages.

"And now, my dear, could you bring me my clothes?"

"What for?" asked back John warily.

"To dress up of course, would you want me to go out in this hospital-gown?"

"Are you already released?"

"Who cares? I'm ready to help you in this case."

"Director Leary said you are under protective arrest…" mentioned Bailey which was a big mistake.

"Protective arrest!" Brody said disgusted. "A big shit! I won't stay here, and I don't need guards, either. It's enough that I lost my cover, and I have John here to protect me!"

"You should stay in bed…" tried John.

"And this is said by you, who has that brace on the leg and is still working! _You _definitely won't order me to bed! All right!" she pushed the blanket from her and stood up.

She might move a little bit gingerly, but others nobody would tell that she was stabbed only half a day ago.

"You can stay, I'm going to dress in the bathroom." And with that she vanished behind the door.

Sam and Bailey looked at John as one.

"She's like a hurricane!" said Bailey and John smiled.

"You don't have to tell me!"

"Where do you know her from?" asked Sam.

"We grew up together, and worked together for a while."

"How long has she been working undercover?"

"Let's see, forabout two years, I guess. She even let herself imprison for a while. But don't think that she behaves like this because she spent too much time with the bad guys…" John said seeing Bailey's expression. "She was always like this…"

They were interrupted by Agent Brody coming back. She was wearing black jeans, black T-shirt and an also black leather-jacket. She looked everything but an FBI-agent.

"Well" she looked at them expectedly. "Can we go?"

Sam smiled, she couldn't change it she found Agent Brody rather … interesting. Bailey stood up and John sighed.

"I guess we have no other choice…" he grumbled.

"I'm glad you realized at last!"

-

A few hours later they were sitting in the local FBI office. They talked over the case again and actually they came much closer to the solution.

"To sum it up: the guy is after gangsters. He always knows where to find them and always strikes when they are alone or two together. Due to Agent Brody about this meeting only a few people knew: some of Drakov's men and those who read her report."

"An FBI agent would perfectly fit the profile. Somebody who saw that investigating against the mob is a useless fight, who maybe lost somebody close to him in this fight and who has access to every important information" said Sam.

"I'll look after who had access to Angie's report" John volunteered. Angie wasn't there at the moment, as she was summoned to Leary and probably had another argument.

"I'll go with you" Sam said and stood up.

They walked down the corridor to Leary's office that Angie showed them before. The assistant director offered her secretary's help, and now they were eager to use it.

After they had explained what they needed, the secretary told them that id would take some time and adviced them to go to the cafeteria until she found the documents. Sam was already thirsty for a coffee so she talked John into it.

After he could ascertain that Angie was all right and they spent the last hour or so arguing cheerfully about every topic possible, John was more relaxed than Sam has ever seen him. She couldn't stand to say out loud what came to her mind.

"You are really close friends, Angie and you, aren't you?"

"You can say so, yes. I've known her since I can remember… actually she was my first love" he smiled and Sam was surprised by this openness. "And the second one as well…" he added.

"What do you mean?"

"It's a long story, but in short she was the first girl I've ever kissed… Then only a few weeks later I ran away from home. We met again almost two years later here in New York and then we started to date in earnest."

"You ran away from home?"

"No, I still live with my father" He said sarcastically.

"Sorry. I just thought that…" then she realized that she didn't really know what she thought.

"Her father helped me to find a place after that" he suddenly went grim. "And he paid for it dearly."

"What happened?" Sam asked warily. By now she had realized that Patrick O'Doyle was more than dangerous. "My father framed him and he was sent to jail, where he died 'in an accident'" He said bitterly.

"Oh, I'm sorry…"

"Tell it to Angie. She was only 17 and her father was her only family."

"Why did you ran away?" Sam asked to change the subject slightly.

John just shrugged. It was obvious that he didn't want to talk about it, and Sam didn't want to push.

-

John really didn't want to talk about those days. It were the worst childhood memories he had. He was so happy, and suddenly everything went wrong again…

_It was a bright spring-day and John and Angie were walking home from school earlier today, as it was carrier-day there instead of lessons. John didn't know why but once he just took her hand. Angie didn't even look at him, just squeezed back. Nothing special happened, they walked in silence but it was somehow different. _

_They stopped in front of the O'Doyle house. _

_In that moment Angie seemed so … alien to John. She was somehow different, almost like a real woman. He knew that she loved her, but until then – or to be honest until a few weeks ago! – he always thought about her as his best friend. Now though…_

"_You know… I was thinking…"_

_At any other occasion Angie would have said something funny, but not now. She only looked at him questioningly._

"_About the ball… would you come there with me?" he asked in one quick breath._

_Angie's eyes went wide for a moment and John thought that she would say no but then…_

"_I wouldn't want to go with anybody else… but are you sure that you want me?… Every girl…"_

"_I don't care the other girls especially not Veronica Blakely, if you are talking about her." Blakely was a cheerleader who always was on his heels at school. He once heard the girls after training talking about the ball and Veronica said she was sure that John would ask her. Until then, to tell the truth he didn't even think about the ball. _

_But then he decided that he would go with Angie and nobody else. Yes she wasn't a popular girl or at least not like the cheerleaders but in John's opinion she was much prettier and he could talk with her about everything and she had those special ideas all the time that made him laugh and…_

_Without planning it he leant forward and kissed the girl – not on the cheeks like many times before – but on the lips. And she kissed back. They were a little bit clumsy but it's been the best moment in John's life. _

_When they departed Angie smiled at him uncharacteristically shyly and gently caressed his hand._

"_I'll see you tomorrow…" was all she said before she walked away._

_It was good so, there was nothing to talk about because what they've just done seemed absolutely natural. He was standing at the garden-gate and watching her until she disappeared at the corner._

_When he stepped inside the house he expected nothing wrong, he felt as if he were walking over the clouds. He should have known better, of course… _

_He went into the living room and saw that his father was there but didn't see any of the signs. _

_The next moment he was knocked to the ground. The blow surprised him so much that he couldn't stay standing. _

_A kick in his stomach made his brain work again. _This isn't good… I should stand up… _he thought,_ b_ut he wasn't given a chance. After some more kicking his father hauled him up to the feet and pushed him to the wall. The iron-hand tightened around his neck. John's vision was blurry but he could make out his father's face and what he saw wasn't very promising. Patrick O'Doyle was furious and was raging. _

"_What…?" he tried to choke out a question but it was cut in two as his father banged his head against the wall. _

"_Career day, what? Talking to the cops? Don't tell me you want to be a cop!" with every word he hit his son's head against the wall and John felt darkness swimming in at the edge of his vision. _

"_How do you know?" he whispered hoarsely when his throat was at last released and he fell to the floor._

"_So you don't even deny it!"_

_Another kick and John felt one – if not two – of his ribs breaking. _

"_I knew you were a failure but I've never thought that you would betray me like this!"_

_John tried to protect his head with his arms though in vain. There was a sharp pain in his forearm and a blow – or was it a kick? – still landed in his face and blood immediately flood his mouth and nose. The only thought he could manage was: _This time he will really kill me…

_Somehow this thought didn't really frighten him though, maybe because his mind was too confused to feel scared… _

_After that he didn't remember much. At some point he felt sharp pain in his shoulder and left arm but despite of that he didn't even feel the pain. _

_After some time his father calmed… or maybe just got tired, and stopped. By that time John was barely conscious and even breathing took enormous effort so he didn't even try to rise his head. He heard the door and later the sounds of a motor starting… and then he blacked out. _

_He was woken up by a gentle touch on his face. However he didn't really realized that it was gentle, so he tried to move away from the hand. Sharp pain in his head… and his abdomen… He moaned out loud._

"_John! Please, open your eyes!"_

_This wasn't his father… He opened his eyes at last and looked in the worried eyes of Angie. She was obviously on edge of tears which frightened John… Why would she cry? She never cried. Did something happened?_

"_John… please… I called the ambulance… so, hold on, okay?"_

_He didn't understand. Something was very wrong… _

"_Why…?" his question was an inaudiable whisper and he tried to sit up. Though the sharp pain he felt when he reclined on his left arm, prevented it. He cried out and remembered his father… and the beating. But… If Angie called the ambulance then he really must have looked like crap… Not as he felt any other way._

"_I called my father as well…" Angie whispered and John realized that she was not just worried… she was scared and almost in panic. _

_He wanted to tell her that he was okay but didn't manage it. It was so dark in the room, he could barely make out her face anymore… It was hard to breathe. As if somebody had put a heavy stone on his chest. Everything went black again._

_The next time he woke up he was lying in a bed. He felt weak as never before. He couldn't even open his eyes to look around but he guessed he was in a hospital. _

_He became aware of voices next his bed. Two men, they were talking about… him._

"_So, what did you say happened to him?"_

"_I don't really know. He's my daughter's friend and when she went over to him, she found him in this condition in their house." This was Mr. Brody's voice so the other one must have been a doctor._

"_I see. What's with his parents?"_

"_He lives with his father… his mother died. I don't know where his father is though."_

"_Hmm… do you think that his father did this?"_

_For a moment he thought Mr. Brody would say yes… but Simon Brody wasn't a hero and he had enough problems without having Patrick O'Doyle as an enemy._

"_I can't imagine that a father could do something like this to his child." His best friend's father told then._

"_I've seen some terrible things here already…" answered the doctor. _

"_How is he?" asked then Mr. Brody._

"_Bad. He had inner bleeding when he was brought in but the surgery went well." _Surgery? He had a surgery? _John wondered but then concentrated back on the conversation. "Both his arms are broken" continued the doctor "and so are five of his ribs and the left collarbone. He also has skull-fracture which really worries us."_

_This started to be too much information for his drained mind and he slowly drifted back into sleep._

_Two days later he was awake but still dizzy and tired beyond everything. He had Mr. Brody for visitor. The man was serious and rather grim nothing he used to be. _

"_I'm sorry John." He said._

"_It wasn't your fault…" he said in a slurry voice. That was partially caused by the medication he got, and partially by the bandage over his nose._

"_The police was here… and I told them that I didn't know who did this to you."_

"_This was the best you could do."_

"_I'm not so sure… Look, his time your father went really too far. I don't think that this can go on like this…" John almost cut in but Mr. Brody raised his hand to make him listen. "I'm not talking about going to the cops… but you could escape, run away…"_

"_I…"_

"_Don't say anything. I have a very good friend in Los Angeles. I talked to him and he would take you in for a while. Until you need it… just think about it, okay? And when you decide just let me know…"_

_Then he didn't say anything but when he was allowed to get out of bed and saw his own face for the first time in the mirror he made a decision. Because he realized that if he stayed here for much longer he definitely won't live many more birthdays…_

_-_


End file.
